


In Over His Head

by alienlover13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sex, Slash, Smut, Trans Male Character, Transgender Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25754323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienlover13/pseuds/alienlover13
Summary: As things heat up with Potter, Draco takes a dive to cool himself off.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 174





	In Over His Head

Draco concentrated on his form, looking down at board beneath his feet. He calmed himself by staring out at the bright water below him. Waves rippled softly across the surface, casting a blinding light, so bright Draco had to look away. He took a deep breath, imagining himself executing the maneuver successfully. To be sure, it was a difficult dive. He had to be precise or risk landing in the wrong position. The board was hard beneath his feet and it slightly swayed in the breeze. He centered himself. 

“Hurry up, Malfoy!” Blaise complained. “For Merlin’s sakes, it’s freezing out here!”

He ignored Blaise, rehearsing the maneuvers in his mind for the third time. 

“Malfoy, did you forget how to jump?” Pansy exclaimed, exasperated. “Some of us would like a turn, you know!”

He ignored Pansy too. Jealous sods, the lot of them; they knew his dives were better than theirs. With that knowledge giving him strength, Draco finally started his approach, enjoying the feeling of his body moving through the air as he sprang off of the board and executed a textbook reverse pike dive. Power flowed through his very core. Once safely in the water, Draco gracefully returned to the surface and swam for the ladder. 

“Excellent work, Mr. Malfoy,” said Madame Hooch, who had turned out to be quite the swimming and diving enthusiast. After a summer spent rebuilding Hogwarts and petitioning the faculty, students interested in water recreation finally received permission to erect a competition-sized swimming pool on a plot of unused land that was removed from the castle, but still on school grounds. Madame Hooch hadn’t been their first choice, but somehow she had turned out to be the best choice. 

Draco couldn’t stop himself from preening a bit as he climbed out of the pool. It was refreshing to do something _well_ , for a change. Though it was the middle of the day, it was uncharacteristically cold. Blaise and Pansy couldn’t stay warm, apparently, but Draco, so used to being numb from fear of the Dark Lord, relished the feeling of being alive that the cool breeze and chilly water brought him. He took his place in line at the side of the pool and watched as Blaise ascended the diving board ladder to execute the same dive. 

Draco enjoyed watching as his friend flew through the air wearing nothing but a tiny swimsuit, but Blaise’s form definitely needed some work. Madame Hooch seemed to concur, as she spent five minutes after Blaise’s dive correcting his technique and instructing the rest of the class on what mistakes to not make. Draco zoned out as she reviewed the basic steps, which he had already memorized weeks ago. Conveniently, the school Quidditch Pitch wasn’t located too far away from the pool. And it just so happened that the Gryffindor Quidditch Team had a training slot at the exact same time the Slytherin Swimming and Diving Team met for practice. Draco was greatly relieved that, in most situations, he faced away from the Pitch when he dived.

Since it was a clear day, Draco had a decent view of the Gryffindors on their broomsticks; Potter was running drills, making corrections to his teammates when necessary. He absent-mindedly wondered if Potter ever watched him diving —after all, he certainly would have a good view from his broomstick. They weren’t friends, per se, but Draco was friendlier with Potter these days; stating that they’d never quite managed to get along at school would be an understatement. But now, when Slughorn occasionally paired them up in Potions, there was hardly any animosity between them. In fact, if Draco didn’t know better, he’d have thought there was a little spark between them.

“How’d I do, Draco?” Blaise asked, panting as he rejoined the line. 

“You did well, Blaise,” Draco said, unable to keep from smirking. Blaise had been coming onto him for the past month, but Draco’s sights were set elsewhere.

“Say,” said Blaise. “How do you get such a perfect position after you leap off the board?”

He never could resist bragging, even if it was in the form of instructing. Draco began to explain, but he couldn’t help his eyes from occasionally wandering to see what Potter’s team was up to. Blaise also demanded a demonstration, which Draco did his best to provide on land. And if he took the opportunity to flex a little, well, Blaise certainly wasn’t complaining, now was he?

Before practice ended, Draco executed two more perfect, textbook dives, impressing even Madame Hooch, who rarely offered more than one compliment per practice. He took his cool-down laps with vengeance, pushing his body to endure past his peak performance. The hot shower afterward was the best reward, and if Blaise happened to be sneaking peeks at his chest in the communal locker room as he finished getting dressed, Draco certainly wasn’t going to say anything. “Need some help?” Blaise asked ten minutes later with a suggestive gesture when they were the only ones left.

“You’re free to look,” Draco said, “But no touching, Blaise. I have my eye on someone.” 

He had to give Blaise credit for taking it well. “Of course,” Blaise said smoothly. “And if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here. Whoever he is, he’s a lucky man.” And with that, Blaise left the locker room, carrying Draco’s swim bag back to the dormitories. 

Flattered, Draco swept from the room, heading towards the Pitch, just to satisfy his curiosity. Potter was known to be a stickler, much like Oliver Wood had been, so he was more than likely to still be there. Draco walked down the path, smoothing back his wet hair and watching for Potter. And there he was. On the area of the Pitch meant for strategizing, he could see Potter’s shadow in the fading light, pacing, gesturing presumably at scenario boards. 

“Harry, mate,” he heard Weasley say, “Isn’t it about time to call it a night?” Draco could hear him yawning. “We’re all about dead on our feet here. Let’s go over your new techniques later.”

“Right,” Potter said. “Well, good work today, everyone.” Draco could hear the team standing up, bones cracking as they stretched loudly. “Tomorrow afternoon, we’re back down here to finish discussing the new strategy.”

“You got it, Harry,” Demelza said brightly on the way out. Draco was just able to duck behind a tree before she breezed out of the room, heading for the castle. The rest of the team followed, all except for Potter. Even a good five minutes after the last straggler—Weasley—he still hadn’t departed the Pitch. Confused, Draco snuck into the team training room, careful not to make any noise. Potter wasn’t there. Unable to leave without sating his curiosity, Draco used the other exit to get onto the green of the Pitch, all the while scanning for Potter. Finally, after looking up, Draco saw him on his broomstick, lazily flying over the stands.

He had a thought. Waving his wand, Draco quickly conjured a small glass ball. “Hey Potter,” he shouted, pleased with himself when Potter’s head whipped around to find who had intruded on his solitude. “Think fast!” Draco yelled, hurling the glass ball into the air, throwing it away from Potter.

Without hesitation, Potter went for it, marking the ball in his vision as he streamed through the Pitch, descending lower and lower in his haste to catch it. Draco remembered how Potter always went for it, no matter how death-defying the maneuver needed to be in order to catch the Snitch, and this time was no different. Upside down on his broom, Potter snagged the ball and pulled out of his dive just before he smashed into the side of the announcer’s booth. Panting, he whirled around on his broom, meeting Draco’s eyes. The smolder between them was palpable. “I think you lost something, Malfoy,” Potter said, then he drew his arm back and fired the ball at Draco’s face. 

For being a good ninety feet away, his aim was dead-on. Draco was forced to Transfigure the ball to avoid getting covered in shattered glass. The white dove he created flew in a brief circle above their heads before heading towards the Forbidden Forest, where Draco fervently hoped it found Hagrid instead of becoming some other creature’s dinner.

They renewed their eye contact; Potter descending slowly. “It’s a different type of diving, but it fits me, I think,” Potter said. “Is your practice over already?”

So he had been watching. “It ended about a half-hour ago,” Draco replied. “But of course, you ought to have known that already—how far can you see from up there?”

Potter smiled. “Not nearly far enough,” he said, touching down on the grass. “Besides, I have my hands full with that lot,” he said grimly, gesturing towards the team dugout. “We’ve got a long way to go before the first match, that’s for sure.”

“I’m sure they’ll shape them up just fine,” Draco said. He smirked as fond memories of badgering Potter resurfaced. “After all, Weasley is your King.”

“Remind me how the tune went?” Potter asked as they mutually fell in step together, heading back towards the team room. 

“Oh, come now, Potter,” Draco said. “I’m saving it up for the match. I think I can dig out some of the old buttons, too…” 

Potter laughed. “You would still keep those around, wouldn’t you, Malfoy? And here I thought you’d changed.”

Stopping in front of the door to the team room, Draco grinned at Potter. “But I  _ am  _ different now. I’m making a whole series of buttons, you know, and you’re featured on the next one. Any suggestions before I have them produced? I was thinking a simple lightning bold adorned with the word  _ Scarhead _ would do.” 

“Put me down for ten,” Potter said. “I’m sure your friends would like signed copies.” He opened the door and went inside, pushing it open behind him.

“Manners, Potter,” Draco sighed, catching the door without following him inside. “I see you’re just as much of a gentleman as you’ve always been.”

Ignoring him, Potter shucked off his outer Quidditch robe, Draco taking the opportunity to covertly admire the lean, toned muscles of Potter’s abdomen that were visible through his thin T-shirt. It only took a moment for his bits to start swelling.

“As much as I appreciate the show,” Draco said. “I simply must be going now. My Potions essay isn’t going to do itself, you see.”

Still ignoring Draco, Potter kicked off his Quidditch boots and started lacing up his trainers. “Isn’t your friend Zabini helping you out?” he asked mildly. 

“While Blaise has many talents, he’s not suited to help me in that regard,” Draco said.

“And what about in other regards?” Potter asked, making eye contact as he gazed intently at Draco, his shoes half-tied.

“We’re not like that,” Draco said, maintaining the contact. 

“Do you want to be like that?” Potter’s tone was serious, more serious than Draco thought he could be.

“If you must know, Potter,” Draco said, “I have my eye on someone else.” He grinned knowingly. 

Finally, Potter smiled back. “I see,” he said, returning his attention to his untied shoe. “Good night, Malfoy.”

Still smiling, Draco let the door close behind him and strode towards the castle, waiting until he was a good ways away from the Pitch before breaking out into a celebratory jog. He breathed in the fresh air around him, enjoying the night. For once, Draco slept well. 

The next morning, in Transfiguration, McGonagall paired him and Potter together for the practical application part of the course: they were dealing with a highly-technical spell that involved Transfiguring combustion at the exact moment the chemical reaction took place. As they worked, Potter kept  _ accidentally _ brushing him as they switched roles between castor and observer. “Nice,” Potter said appreciatively as Draco Transfigured the budding orange flame into a small wave of water that quickly dissipated. For his part, Draco couldn’t help but reward Potter with a nod of encouragement after his third time trying the spell unsuccessfully. Potter was so encouraged that he cast it correctly on his very next try, producing a handful of loamy soil. When they shared a secret smile, Draco felt his heart creep into his throat. 

Practice that night was intense. Madame Hooch liked to spend one day every week reviewing one of the dives they’d already learned, so they were back to practicing the inward pike dive. This one had no approach, and while it was technically easier, Draco preferred having that powerful energy already moving him forward. He stood on the end of the board, balanced with his toes gripping the board and his heels hanging off the edge, trying his best to calm his nerves. Potter’s team was practicing again, and this time, Draco could feel him watching. Ignoring Potter, Draco raised his arms above his head and drew them downwards, using them to help himself bear down on the board and spring up into the air. Quickly bending his upper body forward about 45 degrees, he almost touched his head to his ankles before aiming his head straight down and letting his feet follow naturally, neatly diving into the water below. 

When Draco surfaced, Madame Hooch gave him a curt nod, which meant that a lecture was forthcoming. Even he knew that his positioning had been slightly off. But then, there was a noise from behind him. “Watch this,” Blaise shouted, cannonballing off the low dive into the pool so hard that water splashed on Draco as he ascended the ladder. 

“Zabini!” shouted Madame Hooch, saving her vitriol for after he had surfaced. “How many times do we have to talk about proper pool etiquette? Laps for all of you! Go, now!” 

“Sorry, Madame Hooch,” Blaise said, sounding chastised. But then he caught Draco’s eye and winked, scaling the ladder with ease.

“You have no shame, Zabini,” Pansy sighed as they walked over to the Olympic-sized pool together. 

“I just had some extra energy to burn off,” Blaise said innocently. He dived into the furthermost left lane, with Draco and Pansy stepping up to the edge of the next two lanes.

Pansy snapped her swim goggles into place before diving in. “No, you’re just a dick,” she said pointedly, bobbing up and down in the water. “With a hard-on for Draco.”

Smiling, Blaise hung onto the edge of the pool as he tightened his goggles. “I just know how to take one for the team,” he said. “Madame Hooch was ready to crucify Draco. Did you really want that?”

“My knight in shining armor,” Draco drawled as he dove in, goggles on and noseplug secured. He began an enthusiastic breaststroke down the lane, Pansy and Blaise following in his wake. He alternated laps of breaststroke and backstroke for the next hour, unable to determine when the Gryffindor Quidditch Team called it quits for the night. 

After Madame Hooch finally came back to dismiss them, Draco sat on down on the edge of the pool to rest, breathing hard. 

“Are you coming to dinner, Draco?” Pansy asked, toweling off. Blaise threw an extra towel at Draco, having already wrapped one around his waist and another around his head like a turban. 

“I’ll come in a few minutes,” Draco said, draping the towel around his neck. “I’m just going to cool off first.”

“Suit yourself,” Blaise said, shrugging. He and Pansy gathered up their gear and followed the rest of the team back to the castle. 

Draco closed his eyes, absent-mindedly kicking his feet in the water. He finally caught his breath, but he was unable to quell the stream of thoughts filling his mind. Frustrated, Draco stood up, flung the towel onto the nearest pool chair, and then scaled the ladder up to the high dive. Diving without a spotter wasn’t his smartest idea, but he was determined to do it nonetheless. 

Setting up for the reverse pike dive, Draco again looked down at the board beneath his feet. He always started his dives this way. The sun was going down; there was just a sliver of light left on the horizon. Soon it would be dark. But still, the pool cast an aura of peace, of calm. Draco took a deep breath and then started his approach, using his left foot to set up his jump before catapulting himself upwards, touching his toes in mid-air before thrusting his head and arms downward, heading toward the water. Draco’s first thought after he broke the surface was that his dive was textbook. His second thought was that he was in over his head.

Pondering his spark with Potter, Draco was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice a certain dark-haired person silently observing him. He climbed the ladder and stood at the edge of the pool, wringing out his hair. 

“Think fast,” came a voice from behind him. Draco looked up just in time for a towel to slam into his chest. 

“Potter!” he shouted, startled. “What are you doing here?”

Potter grinned. “I didn’t see enough action today. You only dived once, so I came down because I thought you might practice some more. Turns out I was right.”

“Oh yeah?” Draco said, his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. “And did you like what you saw?”

“I did,” said Potter, coming closer. “Why don’t you do that other dive again? The one you were doing earlier?”

Draco looked at him questioningly. “Did you like that one better?”

Shaking his head, Potter said, “No. But you weren’t happy with it.”

“Since when did you become observant?” Draco muttered. Leave it to Potter. “Alright, pull up a chair,” he sighed. 

“Gladly,” said Potter.

Draco scaled the ladder again, feeling more nervous than he had earlier that day. Instead of ignoring Potter this time, though, he called out, “Watch carefully, because I’m only doing this once.” And with that, he turned around, hung his heels off the back of the board, and sprang up, quickly executing the downwards maneuver. As he hit the water, Draco knew that dive had been better.

Potter clapped when he surfaced. “Ten out of ten,” he said. “Can you teach me?”

“You can start with on the low dive with the basics,” Draco said. “And I’m not teaching you at night.” 

“Fair enough,” Potter grinned. “But I feel up for a swim. Where’s the best spot for lounging?” 

Snorting, Draco asked, “Do you even have a swimsuit?”

“I don’t need one,” Potter said, stripping off his shirt. This time, Draco could admire his abdomen in the last light of day, watching how Potter’s hardened muscles moved gracefully. As if that wasn’t enough stimulation, Potter bent down to strip off his trousers. Left in just his pants, he said, “I’m ready.” It took all of Draco’s self-control to not look down at Potter’s bulge. 

Mouth dry, Draco led the way to the shallowest of the three pools, wading in on the side with the gradual incline. Potter winced as the water rushed over his feet. “Merlin, Malfoy, it’s freezing. You really get in this pool at the crack of dawn?”

Draco shrugged. “I got used to it,” he said mildly. 

They waded to the deeper end of the pool, Potter slightly shivering as the water climbed higher and higher on his dry skin. “Maybe you should have jumped in,” Draco said. “Or I could have pushed you,” he added, grinning wickedly. 

They continued to walk deeper and deeper. “I’m f-fine,” Potter said, responding to Draco’s questioning look, his teeth slightly chattering as the water covered his chest. 

“Don’t be a git,” Draco said. “We can come back in the afternoon sun.”

Glaring, Potter took a deep breath and plunged himself under the water. After a few seconds, he surfaced wildly, trembling. “Fuck,” he gasped, “That was worse than I expected.”

Draco stifled his laughter, barely. “Do you want me to come over and warm you up, Potter?” he asked.

“That would be excellent,” Potter said, pushing his hair back out of his face.

Gulping, Draco slowly walked over to Potter and drew him into his arms. “Better?” he said roughly.

“Much,” Potter said, wrapping his arms around Draco. They stood there, awkwardly hugging, until, finally, they both drew back. Staring uncomfortably into Potter’s eyes, Draco’s lip trembled. Potter’s face softened, and he reached out to gently caress Draco’s face. “Draco,” he said softly, closing his eyes and leaning forward. Recognizing the initiation, Draco leaned the rest of the way and touched his lips to Potter’s. They were wet but soft, and in that moment, he fell. Lacing his arms around Potter’s neck, Draco slowly deepened their kiss, getting more turned on as Potter responded to his actions in kind. 

“Malfoy,” Potter sighed, “I’ve been waiting for so long, you have no idea.” He kissed the side of Draco’s neck, caressing his hair softly. 

“I know exactly how long,” Draco breathed. “I’ve been waiting too, Potter. Didn’t you know?”

Potter chuckled, the vibrations tickling Draco’s ear. “I guessed, but I didn’t want to be wrong. Are you okay with moving to steady ground?”

“Wait,” said Draco. “There’s something you should know. I have…a deficiency. A birth defect. Down there, I’m not like you.”

“What are you talking about?” Potter asked. “It’s okay if you have a small cock, Draco.”

He sighed. “Here,” Draco said, “Feel.” He took Potter’s hand and put it between his legs, breaking the illusion of the Glamour. 

“Oh,” said Potter. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” Draco said. “Only Pansy and Blaise do, and they’ve both sworn Unbreakable Vows to secrecy.” He hesitated, unable to quell the churning in his gut. “Does this change things?”

To his credit, Potter barely hesitated. “No,” he said. “I don’t care what you’ve got, Draco. I like  _ you _ , not your bits.” And with that, he leaned in for another kiss. Relieved and touched, Draco followed Harry’s lead, trying not to let his emotions show. They kissed deeply and their touches slowly started getting hotter. 

“I mean it, Draco,” Harry breathed after Draco started licking his nipples, “Flat ground, stat.” 

Laughing, Draco grabbed Harry’s shriveled hand and pulled him out of the pool. Isolated behind the far side of the Quidditch Pitch, no one was around. “Nox,” Draco said, retrieving his wand from his bag and putting out all the lights save for one. He spread his towel out on the ground, then added a couple more for extra padding. 

“I like the way you think,” Harry said, sitting on the towels. “Ready?” 

“Definitely,” Draco whispered, sinking down next to him. They kissed again, and somehow, Harry ended up on top of Draco, who wasn’t complaining. Slowly, Harry removed Draco’s swimsuit, and he couldn’t help but blush as Harry spread his legs. 

“Relax,” Harry said, touching Draco’s legs soothingly. He leaned down and kissed the inside of Draco’s thighs, getting closer and closer to his sensitive, wet area. After teasing him just a bit, Harry finally reached the head, which was swollen and wanting. He licked and kissed it, building Draco’s excitement. “This okay?” Harry asked as he went a little lower, tonguing the inside. 

“Yes,” Draco moaned, spreading his legs wider. “I don’t mind it.” Harry continued to pleasure him until they were both flushed and trembling. After a while, he kissed his way up Draco’s body, teasing his nipples as he went.

“What do you want?” Harry asked as Draco pulled him down for another kiss. 

“You inside,” Draco said, smiling despite himself. “I don’t really think there’s another way to do it.”

“But…where?” said Harry.

“Oh,” said Draco. “In the front.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, it feels good there.”

“Okay,” said Harry, reaching down to remove his pants, which were soaking wet and plastered to his skin. “I might need a little attention first.”

“Lie down,” Draco said. He gladly turned his attention to Harry, running his fingers erotically across his nipples and then down lower. After teasing Harry to get him back in kind, Draco licked his shaft before focusing on the head and the sensitive spot on the underside. When he finally went down, encasing Harry’s cock inside his mouth, Draco heard sighs of pleasure. He worked at it for a few minutes, employing his best techniques, but soon he pulled off and wiped his mouth. 

“That was nice,” Harry said, caressing Draco’s leg. 

“Just nice?” Draco asked. “I’ll give you nice.”

“Please do,” said Harry. Grinning wickedly, Draco straddled Harry and took his cock into his area, gently raising up before going a little further down with each stroke until he’d taken the full length. 

“Draco,” Harry breathed, “Merlin, you’re tight.”

“Lie back and think of England,” Draco said, riding Harry. He controlled the angle and the pace, setting it to hit his innermost pleasure spot. After a minute, Harry started moving with him, their love-making escalating as their desire increased.

“Stroke me,” Draco panted. “Here, like this.” He took Harry’s hand and positioned it appropriately, miming an up-and-down motion. “Just like that,” he said as Harry took over. “Merlin—I’m close.”

“Me too,” Harry managed, driving into Draco with force. “Squeeze me, please,” he begged. 

Draco adjusted the angle again and then he bore down, squeezing Harry and riding excitedly. “Harder, Harry,” Draco cried, nearly there. Harry pulled him in a way that was just right, and then he exploded, moaning quietly, his area throbbing and pulsating as he came. Harry followed suit a second later, and Draco milked him as he went over the edge, crying Draco’s name. He collapsed on Harry’s chest right after, utterly spent, wiggling enough to dislodge their connection and allowing Harry’s cum to leak out of him. 

“Was it good for you?” Harry asked, a moment later, after they’d both recovered. 

“It was,” Draco said honestly. “I usually have trouble, but I wasn’t thinking about it.”

Harry kissed his cheek. “Good,” he said encouragingly. They lay there together in the soft glow of the pool, enjoying the moment. Finally, Draco stood up and pulled Harry up with him so that he could use a towel to wipe himself. They started getting dressed then, and Draco felt his stomach rumble.

“I guess all that sex made you hungry,” Harry teased, wringing out his underwear. 

“Do you still want your diving lesson tomorrow?” Draco asked. “Then you better shut up, Potter.” Exasperated, he cast a spell to dry Harry’s pants, shaking his head. 

“Back to Potter again?” Harry asked, tugging them on. “If I promise to get you some food, will you call me Harry?”

“I’ll consider it,” Draco said, buttoning up his shirt and tucking it in his trousers. He quickly combed his hair before catching Harry’s eye and finding a spark of mischievousness there. 

“Well come on, then,” Harry said, grinning widely. “I know just the place.” 

Shouldering his swim bag, Draco jogged towards the castle with Harry at his side, smiling to himself. Harry led him through a secret passageway to the kitchens, where the Hogwarts house-elves gladly made them a simple meal to eat. And the more time they spent together, the more Draco felt as though he might not be in over his head after all.


End file.
